I Love Magic (Merlin Imagines and Oneshots)

Mordred x whovian3135 - Painkiller

Universe: Canon
POV: 2nd
Rating: PG+
Category: Catastrophes

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Blood spewed from the young knight's lips with each cough. With a wide sweep of his arms, Merlin cleared the table in the physician's rooms. "Put him here, quickly," he told Percival, and the burly man lay Mordred down. You stood still, staring in disbelief. How did this happen just out of the blue?

"Merlin, what happened?" you ask frantically. It was Percival who answered.

"There was a fight, in the tavern. He was trying to stick up for Gwaine and the others, but someone pulled a blade on him. He got nicked between the ribs," the tall knight said, his tone shocked into solemnity.

"He's loosing too much blood, Lillian, we need something to jumpstart the clotting," Merlin told you in his best bossy voice. You'd been helping him and Gaius for just under a year, and had dealt with all sorts of sticky situations and medical mishaps. You racked your brain to remember what the old physician had taught you.

"D-dandelion poultice?" you ventured questioningly.

"Yes, exactly."

"There's none left," you realized after taking a look at the jar. Merlin snatched it from your hands to see for himself, before letting out a loud groan.

"I'll go get more, just... keep pressure on that," he said hurriedly, rushing out the door with his oversized jacket flapping behind him. You sighed at the servant's flighty mood, and went down to sit next to Mordred. A cloth wrapped around your fingers, you slid your hand over his warm side, under his tunic and over the wound. Mordred flinched slightly, but relaxed to your gentle touch. Percival shifted uncomfortably in the doorway.

"Go," you told him, and not unkindly. "Make sure the mob from the tavern lets Merlin through."

The tall knight dipped his head and left, almost relieved to go. Three was a crowd, after all. Mordred coughed lightly, and fluttered his eyelids open, squinting at you. "Lil?" he asked, trying to sit up. You pushed him back down with a hand to his forehead.

"Shh, just relax," you told him soothingly. He sighed and collapsed back to the table, letting you run the cold cloth across his torso. The two of you were silent for a moment, before he sighed sharply. "Does it hurt?" you asked him. He looked at you for a long moment.

"Not with you here," he said softly, putting his hand over your own. You smiled, unable to keep your flattery hidden. For quite a long time now, you've had feelings for him. Whether it was his quiet strength, his dark locks, or the lovely shining blue of his eyes, you didn't quite know. But you did love him. Deeply, and secretly.

"Really?" you asked in a playful and disbelieving tone, although his words made your heartbeat quicken.

"Oh, Lillian - haven't you noticed? The way my face reddens when I walk past you, how I can't concentrate when you watch us train. I'd get myself injured every morning if it meant I'd have your hand up my shirt like this," he said, making you blush.

"Cheeky devil," you mutter under your breath, standing, and taking your hand away from him. But oh my... he had feelings for you? This was what you'd always wanted! For him to love you back this way.

Barely thinking, you took his face in your hands, and kissed him on the lips. You could feel him smile against your mouth, his bloodied hand stroking lightly across your cheek. You broke apart after what must have been many long minutes, but felt like only seconds.

"Lil, Lillian, love - will you be mine?" he asked sweetly. You giggled and pressed your forehead to his.

"Why yes, Mordred. I think I will."